Healing Wounds
by imaginecreatebefall
Summary: During the battle at Mount Weather, Lexa was hurled into the sky after a close call with a bomb. Clarke comes to her aid and tends to her wounds, but as she cares for Lexa, Clarke realizes some wounds take longer to heal, while others may remain with her until her last breath.


_**So, about two weeks ago I finally caved and watched The 100. Originally, I wanted to wait a little longer, but too many things kept popping up on my dash and I couldn't resist anymore. Then this happened...**_

_**Written before 2x15.**_

* * *

The weight of the branch was nothing compared to the splintered snap she redid to her shoulder. Lexa growled through the agony and threw every last bit of energy within her to heave the massive log off her battered body, but it was too much. War had broke out all around them, limbs severed, eyes gauged and through it all, her people charged on not caring about any wounds they suffered until their last breath was drawn. She could not be more proud. As they approached a hidden opening to Mount Weather after securing the main entrance, bombs began to go off, but the Grounders never faltered. She caught Clarke glancing over at her several times and each time Lexa sensed this, she screamed for everyone to stay focus, to get to their people, and to destroy each and every last mountain man in their path. The Grounders roared in return and Clarke, knowing the message was intended for her, refocused as she was told. Soon after, another bomb went off and Lexa propelled into the sky. Per her orders, no one was to retreat, even to assist their commander and like extraordinary warriors they were, they followed her directives without hesitation as their commander floated off into the night.

The air around Lexa was musty and quiet. She realized quickly that this had been the second close blast in less than a week and her hearing had trailed off because of it.

"Damn," Lexa hissed slamming her head down into the blood-filled soggy ground. Again Lexa tried to muscle the branch off her, getting only the slightest budge in return. She could move it once her energy joined her body again, but by then, it may be too late. Blood began to trickle down her forehead and behind her ear from the force of her landing. The blast had slammed Lexa into the ground like a fist pounding into a concrete wall, hard, sudden and with no resistance. There was no way she could examine how sever her wounds were trapped under the colossal log. She determined her own fight was nearing its end, and with that thought, she stopped struggling and fell back to the ground with a smile on her face as she closed her eyes and waited for the sweetness of death to take her.

* * *

"Lexa!" Came a faint echoing in the distance snapping her eyes back open. The voice was softer than a whisper, but with the stillness devouring the air around her, the cry stood out. "Lexa!" Came the ghost call again. She squinted at a blob in the distance trying to make out the figure. Initially, she thought best to stay still, there was no way she could fight trapped under a tree trunk, but her instincts pushed her to answer the cry. Lexa began ruffling a small pile of dirt and leaves under her hand signaling the spirited voice to rush to her side.

"Lexa, Lexa is that you!" The face approaching was distorted from cuts and brown splotches from the mixture of dirt and blood, but the pile of blonde hair gave the blurred person away.

"Clarke?" Lexa moaned and just as the other leader was in her sight, she blacked out.

* * *

As a droplet splashed on Lexa's cheek her eyes shot open as her dagger and body sprung up in one fluid motion. There wasn't much room for her to go though. Her head nearly sliced against the thick bark overhead. The heavy limb was no longer on top of her, but she now found herself stashed away within a larger tree trunk.

"Lexa," Clarke announced soothingly from behind her, her hearing finally catching back up.

Lexa stopped jerking about easing the instant pain that soared throughout her body from her sudden launch upward, but didn't retreat her knife just yet. "What happened?" She demanded.

"Ease down Commander," Clarke stated."The secret entryway was rigged, as you discovered, but our people made it through."

"Then what are we doing here?" Lexa questioned as she sat back up growling through the pain.

Clarke took a quick glimpse around making sure the forest remained still then crawled over to Lexa and placed her hand gently on her chest to lie her back down on the cushion of damp leaves she collected and formed into a pillow. "Because you're in no condition to follow, and until I know it's safe, we're not moving."

"Clarke, our people need us."

"And we were there for them, you led them, invigorating them with your words and now those captive will be coming home. All because of you."

"I do not approve of hiding away," Lexa answered unmoved by her words as she glanced out toward the other end of the tree trunk.

Clarke rolled her eyes as she sat down next to her. "I didn't think you would," she responded with a smile, "but we're not moving," she added sternly.

* * *

Mid morning approached overhead and Lexa's impatient nature began to eat away at her. "Can we move now?"

Clark contained her laugh but smirked before crawling out the tree trunk to examine their surroundings once again.

"What was that for?" Lexa snapped following her lead.

"I didn't think the Commander would actually listen to my demands, let alone ask for my permission to move." Lexa glared as she winced through the pain in her shoulder hurrying to Clarke's side. "Time to ready my mistakes then." But as soon as they words left Lexa's mouth, she was shoved back down to the ground. There was an air of movement in the distance. They assumed Grounders from the stealthiness they displayed, but needed to be sure before announcing their presence. They both withdrew their weapons and crouched low to the ground watching as the invader began their approach. The jagged snake like tactic cleared their thoughts relatively quickly. They saw this movement the other day, it was Lincoln, but he wasn't alone. Octavia was stalking not far from his side. Clarke appeared apprehensive, but a quick glance at a battered Lexa brushed away her thoughts on her bruised relationship with her friend.

"Octavia, Lincoln," she quietly called out, their heads snapping over in their direction simultaneously.

"Clarke," Lincoln responded hurrying to her side. "Have you found the Commander?" Lexa rose from the ground as he asked her dominant stature fully restored concealing her pain away. "Indra is still clearing Mount Weather, but I was instructed to locate you now that we've overpowered them. Should we head back to camp?" Lexa glimpsed in the direction of Mount Weather. Clarke knew retreating to camp didn't suit Lexa, but the Commander, although hiding it well, was injured. Going to Mount Weather would only put her people in danger, so she nodded along for them to go back to camp.

Lincoln and Lexa lead the way while Clarke stood back with Octavia scouring the trees for any runway mountain men. "Did you see Bellamy?" Clarke asked.

"Yes," Came a short response.

"And the others?"

"Accounted for."

Clarke knew Octavia had every right to be furious with her. If the roles were reversed, she may have even told the others about the missile. "Octavia," Clarke said hoping now that their friends were rescued she might understand why she let the missile fall, but Octavia didn't acknowledge her. Clark took her arm only to have it quickly wiggled from her grasp.

"Don't," Octavia spat with venom shooting from her eyes, "Indra might understand what the two of you have done, but it doesn't mean I do, and I think we both know Bellamy won't either." Octavia fled into the woods to better camouflage herself not giving Clarke any time to reply. She sighed as she watched Octavia disappear. That wound was too fresh. She would have to try to mend things with Octavia at a later date. For now, all her healing energy would be given to Lexa.

* * *

Wounded were already stacked into the camp upon their arrival. As soon as the Commander appeared, healers dropped what they were doing and rushed to Lexa's side, but she ordered them to tend to those in more desperate need of care. Lincoln darted back into the woods to scout the rest of the day with Octavia. The large battle may have been won the night before, but until there was conformation, all available warriors would stand guard. Clarke rushed up to the Commander's tent and waited for Lexa to nod her in before entering. Clarke may have been more daring than most when it came to stepping up to the Commander, but with the hangover of war still looming over them and she didn't want to infringe on any battle ending rituals Lexa had.

As soon as Clarke came through the folds she caught Lexa struggling with her gear. She smiled as she came up to the commander and placed her hand on hers guiding it back down to her side.

"I'm not a child," Lexa stated.

"I'm aware," Clark replied ignoring the commander's stubborn nature already instructing Lexa to turn and face her. Clarke looked Lexa over and shook her head as she brought her hand up to Lexa's forehead which had started to bleed again. As she leaned forward to examine the wound, Lexa inhaled sharply. The last time they were this close, their lips found one another's. Clarke felt the electrical pull as well, but her focus remained on getting Lexa cleaned up. Lexa watched on intently as Clarke removed her armor, taking care of each individual piece by placing them on a side table like delicate pieces of history. Lexa hinted at a smile as Clarke stood before her and started to remove her clothing next.

"You really should have had one of the healers examine you."

"I thought you were a healer?" Lex replied dryly.

Clarke shook her head but smirked. "I'm going to start a bath. Remove whatever else you can," she instructed knowing she wouldn't be able to handle seeing Lexa fully exposed without seeking more.

Water buckets were dropped off at the entrance of the tent making it easy for Clarke to fill up the bath and start cleaning out Lexa's wounds.

"Get in," she demanded as she poured the last bucket in. Lexa was no stranger to Clarke's insistent nature by now and obliged obediently.

Clarke took care as she examined Lexa's shoulder which had snapped all over again during her fall back to earth, but she was more concerned with the gash on Lexa's forehead. She repositioned herself behind Lexa and brushed away the hairs sticking to the wound along with the clumps of leaves and dirt that tangled in her braids. Lexa let the air out inside her as she leaned her head back, taking Clarke's breath away as she extended her slender neck. She wasn't sure when things changed between them, but their relationship was like a ball rolling downhill, too fast for her to catch up with. It wasn't until these last few days, as the ball began to slow, that she realized how deeply she cared for the Grounder leader.

Clarke sewed up the gash on Lexa's forehead watching as the Commander barely winced as the needle threaded in and out. Even now she showed her strength. Once the wound was sealed, Clarke wiped away the blood, carefully stroking down Lexa's face to her neck and gazing out as Lexa's chest rose and fell from the water. Clarke bit down on her lower lip wanting her hands to continue down the commander's slick body, but withdrew them before her desire took over. She sat back to collect her breath and thoughts while Lexa soaked up the warmth of the water, clearing away the lingering battle sticking to her body. Once Lexa finished, she ordered her people to empty the tub and fill it up with fresh water for Clarke while she checked on the wounded and to see if any more information about the raid of Mount Weather was uncovered.

Clarke undressed in the Commanders tent without giving it a second thought. She discarded her clothes and kicked them into a pile across the ground not caring where they landed. These last few weeks were physically and emotionally draining and everything had finally caught up with her. Clarke slipped into the tub and used her fingers to comb out her blood stained curls before sinking below the water completely. She gazed up at the blurry cover of the tent, not missing the tainted air of life and war. Yes, her physical battle wounds were seeping from her body, but Octavia was right. Neither Bellamy, nor any of her other friends would understand why she let hundreds die in the missile attack. With this new alliance, Clarke seemed to gain another family with the Grounders, but it would end up costing her the only other one she had. Yet, for some reason, under the water, she was at peace. Maybe this was her proper end. Saving her people, but also unleashing them of her savage-like leadership.

Clarke closed her eyes awaiting the full takeover when a hand reached into the tub and yanked her to the surface.

"What are you doing?" Lexa cried, not giving her a chance to answer and showed her strength even wounded by lifting her from the tub.

"Hey," Clarke started, but Lexa didn't pay any attention to her and threw a towel over her shoulder, only covering the top half of her body.

"Come," Lexa commanded and guided her over to the bed. Lexa grabbed one of the fur blankets and wrapped it around her lower half as a chill from her brisk entry seeped through the folds of the tent.

As Clarke glanced up, Lexa's eyes flared. "What were you thinking?"

"That my welcoming home will be nothing like yours," Clarke answered evenly.

"And this is your solution," Lexa spat raising her hand as if to slap her but withdrew it and stomped toward the exit.

"Wait," Clarke called after her, standing up, her covers dropping to the floor leaving her fully exposed. "I was only cleansing my thoughts, releasing my past. I couldn't actually do what you thought I was doing, especially now."

"And what does that mean?" Lexa questioned unyielding. Clarke didn't' think she had the strength to continue this conversation, but as the silenced stretched out, Lexa's patience dwindled and again she turned to leave.

"I know I said I wasn't ready," Clarke let out halting Lexa's footing. "But when I saw you soar through the air, my heart dropped. You shot through the trees and as you did, a part of me floated off with you." Clarke swallowed hard at the intensity of Lexa's stare as she spoke. "I continued to fight, as I know you would have wanted, but as soon as Indra cried that the taste of victory was upon us, I went for you."

Lexa began her approach with caution as she absorbed Clarke's words. "War halted this earlier Clarke," she started keeping their eyes glued together. "I fell vulnerable to you, and you rejected me." Clarke went to intervene, but Lexa held her hand up to her mouth. "I understood why, but know this, if you do not mean your words, if you're only saying this because you thought I died and decide to take them back tomorrow, I will shut down again, and there will be no returning."

Clarke didn't answer. Instead, she grazed Lexa's hand on her lips with a kiss. The control was hers. Clarke took her hands and gently trickled her fingers up Lexa's arms until they fell under her robe. She swept the item off Lexa's shoulder as they continued to peer into each other eyes. Their eyes stayed locked as Clarke's fingers trailed back down her arms and took Lexa's hands guiding them both back to the bed.

"Lexa," she whispered, but her control had faded, and like a rocket, Lexa jostled Clarke into her. An indescribable need took over them as their hands raced up and down each other's body sending jerks of electricity through the fingertips. Clarke's limbs weakened as Lexa's tongue entered her mouth and they fell backwards onto the bed hard. There was a longing for the Commander ever since she first pulled away. She honestly never questioned her feelings, only the affect they would have on Lexa. And with war upon them, Clarke couldn't risk compromising Lexa's head. Now, with the extensive battle in the dust, there were no more hesitations. Clarke rolled over and pinned Lexa down forgetting about her shoulder for a moment until Lexa released a small whimper. Clarke lowered her mouth and kissed up her arm to her shoulder blade.

"Sorry," she whispered, nibbling at her ear.

"Don't be."

There were no words from there on out. The urgency to have one another took over and the afternoon bled into the night as they feasted on one another. Their night went from nails scraping each other's body with pleasurable pain to tenders strokes of getting acquainted to new areas of each other's soul. They knew tomorrow would tear them away from each other as their groups would demand the next stages of battle and alliances be determined, but the night was there's. They healed each other's wounds, took away the others questions and uncertainties, realizing that side by side they would be able to conquer everything awaiting them.


End file.
